


perform

by mellowly



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bottom Tekhartha Zenyatta, Consent, Exhibitionism, F/M, Femdom, Intercrural Sex, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, Masturbation, Voyeurism, cause consent is sexy kids, one of three total brigyatta fics to exist, pegging mention, soft dom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 10:03:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19148818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellowly/pseuds/mellowly
Summary: brigitte has requested a special treat.zenyatta is all too happy to comply.brigyatta with soft domme brig <3





	perform

**Author's Note:**

> the world... needs more brigyatta.  
> this one sat in my wip folder for half a year, you're welcome

Her eyes upon him scorch like a welding seam, and he aches, needs, desires her closer.

But tonight she will not touch. _Yet_.

Brigitte undoes her shirt with the languid ease of someone who has all the time in the world, curled up in a plush armchair at the other corner of the room - Zenyatta is barely covered, hips stretching thin silk and metal thighs adorned in lace. Her choice. Her special treat. He feels so extraordinarily on display, the desk lamp directed at him so that his body gleams in the single light source.

“Go on,” she smiles, all innocent even as her nipples peak through her sports bra.

Zenyatta inclines his head to her politely - teasingly so - and lets a slender hand drift down the soft, sheer fabric that does not cover him up at all. Beneath his panel, he’s already swollen, has been since she fastened the garters and left a smear of lipbalm on his neck. It is a wonder, he muses as his fingertips drift below the waistband of his panties, that he is not already leaking.

The moment he lets his modesty panel come undone, slipping away with a soft click, he sees and feels Brigitte refocus all her attention on him. He drips between his legs, jerking ever so slightly; the simple pressure of his own hand against slick folds is nearly too much.

“ _Shit_. You’re so…” She doesn’t finish her sentence, admiring him and the way he moves when he slides a finger and then two into himself, gasping softly.

It’s been a while since he was this riled up - and for something so simple. Brigitte has the tendency to do that, to unravel him just by sitting still propped up on a cushion and working her own hand down into her jeans. The thought that she is enjoying this- getting off on it, on him, dolled up in the spotlight and fucking himself on his own hand-

Zenyatta hears himself chirp and whine, wishing for her body heat against him and her voice in his auriculars.

Perhaps she is straining to keep still. What would she do if she crossed the floor? Would she shove him down into the pillows, smother him in all her softness and strength, rub him off with a single hand and bite at his wires? Would she fuck him, hard like he needs it, long and languid until he shook against her?

But Zenyatta does not plead. He rolls his hips and pulls at the silk and lace, and he moans deep in his synth.

“C’mon,” he hears her whisper, husky as she cups her own chest - her gaze is fixated on where his fingers meet his valve. “Come for me, baby.”

It only takes moments - the pressure, the build, it passes in a flash as he gasps and groans and spreads his legs wider. When he comes it is with her eyes on him, blown-wide and brown, with the flush on her cheeks and her voice saying his name burned into him. He collapses back on the bed, overwhelmed, twitching in the aftershocks; finally she gives in, and crashes into him like the avalanche that she is. She takes his face in her hands and kisses at him, grinding down and smearing herself across his silk-clad thigh, climaxing after just a few thrusts.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he hears her murmur.


End file.
